


Wanderess

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, F/M, Fluff, No Smut, Swearing, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for @loveitsallineed’s challenge. My song was Hurricane by Halsey. Originally, this was supposed to be smutty, but it sort of ended naturally, and I didn’t want to ruin it.





	

It had started with a simple comment, an innocent comment, nothing that should have escalated this far. You’d been shopping for groceries with Dean, perusing a shelf to stock up on the medical supplies on the bunker, and he’d made a passing remark about Sam’s last injury and how your stitching had improved. You’d retorted that maybe if he’d let you watch their backs once in while, maybe there’d be less need to stitch anyone up.

‘Yeah, but then who’d stitch you up so well when you got hurt?’ The smile on his face had indicated that it was a joke: you took it as anything but.

‘You calling me a liability, Dean?’

He’d backtracked, realizing the error of his little joke, his face paling as he saw the irritation escalating in your eyes. ‘N-no, I’m not calling you anything, sweetheart, I’m just sayin’, if you were to get hurt, and I’m not saying you would, that me and Sam aren’t as good with the whole stitching thing.’

Your eyes narrowed, and the hand holding the basket dropped to your side. ‘But you’re not gonna let me hunt anyway, are you?’ Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, unsure how to phrase his answer, and you knew then that it was no. He’d come up with another excuse -  _ you’re new to this, only been in the life a few months, don’t want you to see how bad it really is, it’s dangerous, you’re not great with shooting _ \- you’d heard them all and you were sick of it.

You were  _ not _ going to spend your life relegated to the books when you  _ knew _ you could handle yourself against monsters. Hell, you’d killed a fucking werewolf without knowing what it is even was.

‘Y/N, I’m not saying no, I’m just saying -’

‘Forget it.’ You turned on your heel, heading for the counter, dumping your basket and it’s contents on the side. It was petulant behaviour, the way you folded your arms and remained silent as Dean paid, ignoring the looks from the cashier who had assumed that you were having a domestic in the middle of the store.

You walked out to the car in continued silence, sliding into the passenger side as Dean put the bags in the trunk and climbed into the driver's side, sparing you a worried glance. He knew damn well he’d fucked up, but you were damned if you were giving him any leeway now.

The rain started as he pulled the Impala away from the store, heading down the long back roads to the bunker. Under a darkening sky, with the afternoon sun not even trying to break through the clouds, it seemed a lot like a storm was occurring outside and  _ inside _ the vehicle.

‘I’m not saying you’re not capable,’ Dean started, and you rolled your eyes, leaning your cheek on your palm as you looked out of the window, waiting for him to justify his decision with another bullshit excuse. ‘I know Sam thinks you are, and I-I do too, sweetheart, I’m just worried. You’re younger than both of us, and you’ve still got a chance to get out -’

Something in you snapped and you turned your head towards him with fury in your gullet. ‘A chance to get out? Are you fucking kidding me? Oh yeah, Dean, I’ll just go back to the normal world, get a nice little office job and pretend that I didn’t jam a silver knife into my sister’s gut when she turned into a fucking  _ wolf _ in front of me. I’ll pretend that I haven’t seen ghouls and angels and demons, and fuck, witches. Just put that all behind me, yeah?’

He was silent for a moment, his cheeks flaming red as he gritted his teeth, his jaw doing that little tick thing you normally found adorable. Right now, it just pissed you off.

Rain splattered onto the windscreen, and you dragged your eyes away from him, feeling the annoyance simmering just below the surface of your skin. ‘I can’t go back. And if I could, I don’t  _ want _ to. I can do good here, good beyond looking up information and running to the store for Cheetos. I can fight, you know I can, I just don’t understand why you won’t let me.’

‘It’s not safe,’ he repeated, falling back on an old excuse, and you opened your mouth to let your rage flow free, only to be cut off by the Impala’s engine rattling and sputtering. Dean cursed loudly, guiding his Baby over to the side of the road and cutting the ignition. ‘Shit, I -’

He growled the rest of his sentence, getting out of the car and walking around to the front, instantly soaked by the heavy rain. You watched as he pulling the hood up, his grunts of annoyance just about audible over the violent weather. The frustration in your veins fired up again, and you folded your arms over your chest as you watched him move about through the small gap where the hood was up.

If he had his way, you’d be back in your comfy home, with your shitty job, ignorant to the monsters in the dark. He didn’t get that you didn’t want that, for two reasons. One was never being able to forget what you’d seen - the need to do something about it. The second...the second was pointless, because he’d never return your feelings. And even if he did, he’d have an excuse for that too.

Sitting here wasn’t an option, because you were going to say something you regretted. Opening the door, you stood up, pulling your cell from your pocket. ‘No signal out here, Dean. I’m gonna walk. It’s only a couple of miles, I’ll get Sam and come back.’

Dean’s head shot out from the side of the hood, concern all over his irritatingly handsome face. ‘A couple miles? It’s at least five. I’m sure I can get a signal, give me a second.’

‘Five miles isn’t that bad. It should only take me a couple of hours. If you get the car fixed by then, that’s fine, I’ll just see you at home.’ You weren’t sitting there stewing in close quarters with him.

He slammed the hood down, pointing at the car, his face a mask of aggravation.‘Y/N it’s pouring, get back in the damn car, and I’ll call Sam.’

The order made you boil inside and you gritted your teeth, flipping him off. ‘Fuck you. I’m walking. Or can’t I do that either?’

Dean moved around the car, and you felt the urge to either jump him or punch him. ‘You’re fucking crazy, you know that?’

‘I must be, cause I fell in fucking love with you.’ The words were out before you could stop them, and you backed up, turning away and heading into the woods, hoping you were going in the right direction, slightly not caring if you could get away from the Winchester that was driving you crazy.

Naturally, he caught up in about two seconds, grabbing your arm to stop your retreat. ‘What did you say?’

‘Let go.’ You demanded, tugging your arm away futily.

‘No. Tell me.’ He’s so close, you can feel the heat coming off of him, even through the pouring rain that is soaking you both through to the skin. It’s an end-of-summer storm, too hot to be unwelcome, and there’s a similar storm in Dean’s eyes as he waits for you to answer. ‘Tell. Me.’

‘I love you.’ You spit. ‘Asshole.’ 

His green eyes are so fucking bright, you want to hit him for being so fucking beautiful, so fucking unattainable. You want to kick and scream and curse him for making you feel like this; twisted up in knots, hurting so bad when his gaze is somewhere other than you, because he’s Dean  _ fucking  _ Winchester.

So the second his lips touch against yours, you’re lost in a new sensation, one you’ve never experienced where it comes to him. The heat of his skin is melting into yours and you whimper pathetically, taken aback by his sudden move. The kiss ends almost abruptly as it starts, and Dean’s smiling like a goddamn chesire cat.

‘Waited too long for that.’

You still wanted to hit him, right in his smug face, but then he’s kissing you again, backing you up against a thick oak tree as the rain continues to pound the leafy forest floor around you. The road is just about visible, the car sat in a growing puddle, but neither of you want to move from the spot you’re in, wrapped around each other, because the moment might end.

And you don’t want that.

God, you don’t ever want that.


End file.
